Rocko's Postmodern Life
by Slum-Curper
Summary: Ceci n'est pas un "Rocko's Modern Life" fanfic.


It was 4:54 PM, on the 8th of November 2017. This was a challenge of sorts. The author of this story was timing himself as he wrote this story. If things felt rushed or poorly put together, you could blame it on the challenge. Or not, the author was not a great writer by any means, so you could just blame his lack of talent. What was he writing this fanfiction about? He still hadn't decided. He didn't have time to brainstorm, he needed to write this fanfic as fast as possible.

He was listening to some music, it was 4:56 and he still hadn't decided what he was going to write about. Seinfeld, maybe? Nah, he didn't want to write about another sitcom just yet. Home Alone? It was a well-regarded classic, and Christmas was coming soon. Seemed a bit early, though. Maybe the author should at least wait until Thanksgiving was over?

Suddenly it was 4:57, no ideas yet. He knew! He'd write about Rocko's Modern Life! It was 4:59 on a Wednesday night, and Rocko was sitting alone on his couch. He was watching TV in silence, his fingers fidgeting with the remote. Not much interesting had happened recently. He glanced at the clock.

' _5 PM, eh?'_

He started to flip through channels. Channels were flipped. The remote had fulfilled its purpose. It had changed channels for him. What more could he ask of it? Nothing. It was a good remote. It had always served Rocko well. Required AAA batteries. Pretty standard for a television remote.

The clock hit 5:02, and the writer of this story was getting bored. He was running out of ideas, or should he say, he had no ideas to begin with. He started rapidly typing out words in a desperate attempt to write a compelling sentence. He failed. His prose was lackluster, his storytelling non-existent. What was this poor author to do?

Well, he continued writing his Rocko's Modern Life fanfic. Who cared if he had no ideas? He'd keep writing anyway. That little wallaby deserved more stories! So, we'd established that Rocko was sitting on his couch watching television. But what of little Spunky, Rocko's faithful canine companion? He was sitting somewhere, I guess.

It was 5:05, Rocko was doing his thing. This story sure was interesting, wasn't it? The author could tell it was gonna be a hit. Rocko was very in at the time of this story's writing. Kids loved Rocko's Modern Life, right? Or were they all hung up on that newfangled Steven Universe or whatever? The author of this story was not particularly fond of this Steven Universe show.

He believed that it was poorly animated propaganda intended to indoctrinate children into being fat, effeminate losers. The author was also perplexed as to why so many artists wasted time drawing pornography for the show, when their talents would be better spent on something better. So many shows existed with better looking characters, and they were completely neglected.

Rocko had no opinion on Steven Universe, as he was a cartoon wallaby from a show that was cancelled years before Steven Universe existed. He just kept watching television. The author glanced at his clock and noticed it was 5:14. This was the 541st word. Bear in mind that the 541st word was "This" and not 541st. Mr. Author decided to move on from Rocko for a few moments and proceeded to go on a tangent.

"Just so you budding authors know, the word is spelled 'definitely', not 'defiantly'. Defiantly implies that someone was acting in a defiant manner." He continued. "And stop mixing up there, their and they're."

"'There' can mean a location or a specific point in an event. When someone says, 'look over there', you use 'there'."

"'Their' is when referring to people. For example, if you want to state that something belongs to a group of people, you would say 'That is their [object]'."

"'They're' is a shortening of 'they are'. Should be pretty easy to remember with that apostrophe, right?"

The author cleared his throat and looked at his clock. It was 5:22.

"Oh, and don't think I've forgotten about you losers that write anime fanfics. If you write a story in English, there's no reason to include Japanese words."

The Author adjusted himself in his seat.

"Writing 'hai' instead of 'yes' does not make a story more authentic. It just makes the author look like a dickhead."

"Also, stop with the 'songfics'. It's embarrassing. The songs are never good and more often than not, the lyrics are just there for padding." The author smiled. One of his favorite tracks just started playing. It had no vocals, so there was no chance of it ever being used in a songfic, thank God.

The author sighed, and decided he should return to his Rocko's Modern Life story. So Rocko was watching television and Spunky was sitting somewhere. "What should I watch?" Rocko asked himself. He pondered for a few moments, then decided he'd just turn off the TV and go to bed.

Rocko turned off the TV and the lights, called Spunky and headed upstairs to his bedroom. He nestled himself under his warm blanket and closed his eyes. The Rocko story was finished. The Author took this as an opportunity to continue with his rant.

"Don't you people use spellcheck? In this day and age, there's no excuse for the ridiculous amount of spelling errors you clowns make."

"And another thing, why do you always preface your stories with those stupid disclaimers? It's completely unnecessary. Don't you goobers understand fair use? If you're not making a profit, nobody cares what garbage you write."

The author felt a tinge of guilt over his harsh words. He didn't set out to hurt people's feelings. He just wanted writers to reflect on the mistakes that had become commonplace in the fanfiction community. He hoped that with this knowledge, writers would avoid the many clichés that plagued most fanfics.

"How 'bout that World Series? Darvish really pooped the bed, huh?" The author scratched his upper lip and once more looked to his clock.

"It's 5:50. This story took 56 minutes to write."


End file.
